


Episode 50: Teno'kaan

by PitoyaPTx



Series: Clan Meso'a [50]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clan, Mandalorian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23563414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitoyaPTx/pseuds/PitoyaPTx
Summary: "Trust me, okay?" ~AviilaA bad omen, a calling of the council, and Tavut's father shouldn't have anything in common...
Series: Clan Meso'a [50]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261364
Kudos: 1





	Episode 50: Teno'kaan

The crowds parted on either side of the roadway when the shuttle landed. Til’nook scurried into alleys or shops with open doors and Chochoma ducked behind their caretakers’ legs. The red lights that hung along the homes and shops made the Alor’s prosthetic tendril glow ominously like a tube of lava behind his shoulder furs. Solemnly, Xotolicue, Alor Yaun, walked between them flanked by his attendants Hunap and Xal’que, a pair of indigenous sisters born to the Winged Serpents. Both women were square jawed with angular cheeks, their eyes were grey, and their shoulder length hair was jet black. They looked severe, as though they considered anyone not their Alor a viable threat. As they passed by warriors of the Brood, they studied each face with a mixture of respect and suspicion.   
Koucitesh was still cradling the injured Togruta when they approached with the medical staff, led by a non-indigenous human with short cropped hair and a tidy grey-ing beard.   
“Su’cuy gar, kex’ika,” he said softly, taking the boy from Koucitesh.   
He groaned slightly but made no other indication that he heard the medic at all. Gently they laid him down on the hovering stretcher with a sheet pulled up to the boy’s chin, obscuring his injury. His parents followed close behind as they pushed him up the street and into the shuttle. That only left-  
“Ba’atuk,” Xoto said gravely, putting a hand on the Choxultz’alor’s breastplate.   
Kuntz and Kore stood on either side of the unconscious warrior, the latter pressing a cloth down tightly onto her temple.   
“Tir’kime, per…” Kore whispered (Not dead, but..)   
Xoto nodded, then removed his hand and stepped to the side. As they took her to the shuttle, both warriors tried not to make eye contact with the onlookers. It wasn’t hard, every eye was on their Choxultz’alor.  
“Has this.. happened before?” Cara whispered tentatively to Jecho.   
They were sitting on a shop’s stoop beside Niri, the Twi’lek with her arms around Cara.   
“Not to Ba’atuk,” she whispered back, nearly breathless from both the shock and her search for the teen,“This is by far the worst time for this to happen,” she continued, “War just broke out and without her, without the general-”   
“We have our Alor,” hissed an older woman out of the corner of her mouth, “We aren’t defenseless...but,” she conceded, “This is a bad omen.”   
Cara looked around Niri for the source of the voice and saw Baba Tam standing beside another Mirialan, both with their arms crossed. The other, a woman, looked just like Tam but much younger, and Cara figured that must be her daughter or granddaughter.   
“Baba Tam,” Cara called out softly, “What’s going to happen?”.   
Tam glanced her way and smiled warmly, “Don’t worry, Cara. It will all be fine.” 

“I like her optimism,” Niri chuckled as they ascended the hill back to Aviila’s house.   
Jecho nodded, “We’re not part of this war, not yet at least.”   
“Not yet?” asked Cara, still walking arm-in-arm with her.   
“We have warriors across the galaxy,” Jecho explained, “No doubt some of them will be tasked with keeping an eye on the fighting.”   
“Maybe they’ll bring back some tech we can use,” Niri yawned, “If my project keeps getting stalled I might eat my tool belt.”   
“Don’t be dramatic,” said Avilla, startling all three of them. .   
“Where have you been?” Cara asked, disengaging from Jecho and running up to where she stood at the edge of the alley.   
Aviila accepted Cara’s hug, then pulled away and addressed the other two:   
“We’ve been called to the capital.”   
“The capital?” Jecho clarified, “Like...the capital capital?”  
“Teno’kaan? For what?” Niri gestured outward, “What do we have to do with anything?”   
“A...decision has to be made,” Aviila said slowly, “We are leaving now and have no time to spare.”   
Niri grunted and rolled her shoulders; Jecho took a deep breath and began fussing with her skirt and sleeves. Cara couldn’t make out Aviila’s features well in the moonlight, but what she could see was neither the warmth she usually exuded or the stoic contemplativeness she saw on occasion. She looked… resigned, as if fate handed her something she knew she couldn’t escape. Cara had seen that face once before on her mother, and it wasn’t something she associated with anything positive.   
“What’s going on?”  
Aviila looked down at her and gave what should have been a reassuring smile, but Cara got a brief glimpse at the Aviila she’d met the day she walked into the cockpit and found her holding the silver holo disc. 

The trip to Teno’kaan took two hours, during which Niri paced the length of the shuttle and sipped on a flask of what smelt to Cara like a strong whiskey. Aviila stuck to the cockpit and said very little to anyone but the pilot. Cara didn’t get a good look at them and they were wearing a helmet so it didn’t matter. Jecho was mostly quiet, only saying a few things here or there about important geographical features as they passed over them. “That’s one of the many pits they say Rahast left behind” or “Over there is an old Maa’kux encampment”. Cara was barely listening. Her focus was on the cockpit where she could just see Aviila. Even when Niri passed in front, her gaze didn’t falter. If it weren’t for Aviila, she’d be an Ordo. If it weren’t for Aviila… I wonder how many people can say that about Aviila, she thought. How many people had Aviila “rescued” and brought to Meso’kaan. If she was an arms dealer, what business did she have taking people from where they were and bringing them here? A bitterness, the one she felt when she remembered Aviila’s ambush, crept into her stomach and made her saliva taste sour. She tried to push it away, tried to muster up some kind of interest in whatever it was Jecho was trying to explain, but the negativity was far too intrusive for her to manage. After a while, Jecho gave up, probably succumbing to her own anxieties. Niri eventually sat down and her muttering petered out to the occasional whisper. Silence permeated the air but it was almost as intrusive as Cara’s thoughts and the two competing for her headspace proved almost enough to make her scream. She settled for balling up her fists in her lap and staring out the small window beside her. The rolling grasslands interrupted by boulders, herds of pack animals, other villages, and what looked like large, boxy land crawlers sped across Cara’s vision in a blur of disjointed greys and blacks in the moonlight. Among the general shapes she recognized at a glance, there were rectangular patches of land that looked like slabs of stone or concrete. She tried to focus on one as it passed, but it had not discernible features other than being devoid of grass. It wasn’t until the yawning mouth of the black lake came into view that she truly started to pay attention.   
To say that Teno’kaan was the largest city she’d ever seen was an understatement. To say that this was the most water she’d see in one place was also an understatement. Lakes, like rain, were a myth on Tatooine. No doubt the locals would drop a city on top of one just like Teno’kaan if for no other reason than to control who had access to the precious resource. Jecho had shown her holos of the gates, but flying beneath one into the city gave Cara chills on a level she’d never experienced before, and she felt her fingers slowly unwind themselves and relax as her focus became external.   
Two stone Jiiya three times as tall as any building Cara had ever seen sat on either side of the bridge with their tails curled around their feet and their great eyes focussed on the soaring stoneray, Nagut, carved across the top of the archway. For a split second as they passed, sound became muffled and distant as though there was some kind of idle tech hidden amid the architecture. Once the impossibly perfect arch was behind them, the low rumble of air traffic, foot traffic, and the ambient sounds of holo boards replaced the silence of the shuttle with the cacophony of city life. Fent and Beon’s stories about big cities quickly came to mind. Advertisements for cantinas, some game with large hoops and a perfectly circular ball, and what Cara could only guess were bounty holos of wanted individuals cast a multitude of colors on the shuttle windows and created light shows on the grey floor. Ka’kex decorations turned the dark streets and alleys into a maze of red and orange lights, tracing overlapping routes from neighborhood to neighborhood. Pyramidal buildings shorter than the Toch’akjah rose up from the glittering sea between blocks of stone buildings not dissimilar to the ones from the foothills. There were grassy plazas and arenas and long stretches of stone roads making a grid-like pattern around them originating from each of the four gates. Cara could see the Northern and Eastern gates from her vantage point. Eventually, she’d be able to see the Western and Southern once they passed over the center of the city. At their altitude, Cara could see the courtyard surrounding the well and sculpture garden, but the looming mass to the West, a tall spectre in the moonlight, tugged at her attention.   
Pergola covered in orange lanterns and budding red flowers jutted out from the dark grassy courtyard they’d landed in. Niri hopped out behind Aviila and stretched while Jecho and Cara collected themselves.   
“Don’t be nervous,” said Jecho, taking her hand and leading her to the gangplank, “It’s going to be alright.”  
“But what do they want?” Cara asked, her eyes training on the dark monolithic building the moment they exited the shuttle.   
“We’ll find out soon, but we need to keep up.”   
Cara nodded and quickened her pace to match Jecho’s.   
The Toch’akjah at night looked to Cara like a recently fed beast deciding whom it would eat next. In the growing moonlight, the mosaic tiles Jecho once described to her glittered like the stars on a clear Tatooine night. Though it gave her a sense of nostalgia, it didn’t take away from the looming threat and growing chest pressure Cara felt building with each step closer. 

“Ras’ch’wok,” Kuntz remarked, grasping Aviila by the forearm and nodding to Niri (You all are late)   
“Ba’aten da’yam?” Aviila asked, looking around, “tux Kore?” (Why [are you] outside? Where is Kore?)   
“Yete Ba’atuk.” (With Ba’atuk.)   
Aviila nodded, then motioned behind her to Jecho and Cara.   
“Cara, this is Kuntz,” she said once they reached her, “Tavut’s father.”   
Kuntz and Cara greeted each other with an arm behind their backs.   
“Su cuy’gar, Kuntz,” she said politely.   
He nodded.   
“How are we doing this?” Aviila asked in Basic so Cara would understand.   
“You three,” he pointed between her, Niri, and Jecho, “will go first. Once they decide, Cara will follow.”   
“I see,” Aviila said slowly.   
“I don’t,” said Niri, crossing her arms, “Shouldn’t she be there for whatever this decision is?”  
“How old is she?” asked Kuntz.   
“Well of age,” interjected Jecho before Niri could speak, “but I don’t think that’s why they don’t want her in there.”   
“Oh?” the Zabrak raised a brow.   
Jecho turned to Kuntz as if to read his expression behind the vizor, “They’re all here, aren’t they?”   
He nodded.   
Niri rubbed the bridge of her nose, “You can’t be serious. It normally takes forever to get them in one place for anything.”   
“But this isn’t just anything,” Aviila reminded her, “Ba’atuk is injured, gravely injured. Whatever they’re going to decide they all need to be present for it.”   
“You say that as if you don’t know what it’s about,” Niri hissed.   
Aviila’s eyes met Cara’s for a moment.   
“I do,” she confirmed, “but I was ordered to stay silent until they decide.”   
“Wow,” Niri chuckled mirthlessly, “This is great. Great!”   
“Vod,” Aviila growled.   
“Don’t vod me!” Niri jabbed a finger into Aviila’s breastplate, “Secret Keeper of the Century right here. Do half of them even know you’re alive?”  
“Tus baax’tal hokaan’runi,” chided Koucitesh descending to the courtyard behind them, “If we had been aware of her return, who else could have?” (Lies [are] a cruel joke).   
Behind her trailed Barsurl, Meiri, and Taerh’a; the Togruta looked even more grave than usual. Kuntz put an arm out and gently pushed Cara out of their way, separating her from Jecho. The Twi’lek didn’t seem to notice and instead moved to Aviila’s side away from Niri. Cara nearly tripped over her skirt but caught herself by holding onto Kuntz’s arm. He didn’t indicate that the contact bothered him, but he did glance at her.   
“That depends,” said Niri, ignoring the Alor, “on what you’ve been doing for the past eight years.”   
Aviila’s eyes narrowed and she made to retort, but Koucitesh put her hand out and took hold of Aviila’s helmet held in a clenched fist at her side. The Twi’lek grimaced but took the hint and donned her helm; Niri backed away from them closer to the stairs then began the ascent without waiting for the others to follow. Cara watched her, then pushed past Kuntz to Aviila. She took hold of the older woman’s arm.   
“It’s going to be fine,” assured Aviila, kneeling and putting her visor to Cara’s forehead.   
“Promise?”  
Aviila nodded.   
“We’ll be back together soon,” added Jecho, “You don’t have to worry.”   
She gave Cara a quick squeeze, then turned and took to the stairs followed by Koucitseh and her entourage. Aviila was the last to go, climbing the steps at a slower pace than the others. A stone seemed to plop into Cara’s stomach, making her breath catch. A firm hand on her shoulder told her that Kuntz must have stepped forward.   
“With me, kex’ika,” he said, taking her arm and leading her toward the nearest pergola. All the way, Cara watched the group’s progress up the stairs until their figures became obscured by shadow.


End file.
